


i put my make up on, it's friday night and i won't be long

by lovedisak



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pride, emotional gay things, if ur gay you'll know, isak wearing make-up, that wasn't a tag i am appaled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedisak/pseuds/lovedisak
Summary: The first time Isak tries make up is when he's dating Sara.orIsak's journey wearing make up.





	i put my make up on, it's friday night and i won't be long

**Author's Note:**

> sooo i couldn't get this idea out of my head. u have vivi to blame for this. i've been trying to finish this for so long but every time i read it over i found a new thing i didn't like, so i just decided to post it lol i hope u like it!!!! please leave kudos&comments i will luv u!! anyways enjoy isak wearing make up :)

The first time Isak tries make up is when he’s dating Sara.

She invited him over because her parents weren’t home, and Isak panicked, because he _knows_ what that means. He couldn’t say no, because that would be the third time he turned her down this week, and that’s not really boyfriend-y behavior. So he frantically texted Jonas asking if he knew of any parties going on that night and Jonas, as usual, saved his ass by finding one. He doesn’t ask why Isak was so desperate to go out, and Isak doesn’t say anything.

He tried to sound as apologetic as he could in the text he sent Sara, telling her he’s sorry and he really wanted to hang with her, but he’d been looking forward to this party all week and even sending her the Facebook event just to prove it’s not an excuse. It is, Isak has no intention of going to this party, but she doesn’t need to know that.

However, Sara surprises him by suggesting Isak come over anyway, so they can pregame and then go to the party together. Isak can’t (and honestly, is too exhausted to) come up with an excuse to get out of that, so he goes. Sara will be too busy getting ready to do anything with him, and if he drinks enough beer maybe he’ll start enjoying making out with her, who knows.

He’s lying on Sara’s bed while she does her makeup, standing in front of the full-body mirror she has on her bedroom wall. He likes spending time with her, he really does. He’d just like it more if they were just friends and he didn’t feel like he’s letting her down by not having sex with her. He’s considered doing it, just to prove himself that he can. The thing is, he doesn’t think he can actually do it. And just the thought of it makes him feel a little sick. What kind of sixteen year old boy can’t even have sex with his girlfriend?

He knows what kind, he just doesn’t want to think about it.

He’s on his phone, going through some guy’s Instagram feed (not stalking, just looking) and barely listening to what Sara is saying, humming here and there at what he thinks are the appropriate moments. He’s in the middle of very, very carefully opening one of the guy’s pictures so he doesn’t accidentally like it or send it to someone (or comment _you’re so fucking hot shit I think I’m gay_ ), when something hits him square on the nose.

“Ouch!” he exclaims, grabbing the offending item. It’s makeup, that much Isak is sure of. He just doesn’t know which kind. By the round shape he’s guessing it’s blush? Or eyeshadow? “What was that for?”

“You’re not even listening to me,” Sara complains, but she’s smiling, so Isak knows she’s not actually mad.

“Sorry,” he is, kind of. Not so much for not listening to her (he’s pretty sure she was talking about some guy Ingrid hooked up with, and honestly, why would Isak care about that?), but for being a generally lousy boyfriend. For wasting her time, maybe.

“It’s okay,” she sighs. “You better not be talking to another girl on there, though,” Isak feels nauseous. “Pass me my contour kit?”

“Your what?”

“My contour kit,” when all Isak can offer in return is a confused expression, Sara rolls her eyes “the little rectangle that says Anastasia. It’s in that bag next to you.”

Isak sees the little pink polka dotted bag on the bed next to him and goes to rummage through it. There is many a rectangle in it, but only one of them says Anastasia. There are so many things in there, how can someone possibly put all of this on their face? “How much of this shit do you own?” he asks, passing Sara the item she asked for.

“Excuse me! I own a normal amount of makeup,” she scoffs, grabbing the kit and taking a brush out of the little… pencil case? It looks like a pencil case - she has with her, “you should see Ingrid’s collection. It’s like walking into a MAC store.”

Isak wonders if he’ll ever stop hearing about Ingrid. First it was Jonas, because she was his girlfriend. Then, it was Eva complaining about their ruined friendship, and now Sara will not shut _up_ about her. Sometimes he imagines it’s because she’s in the same position Isak was (is?) with Jonas. Wouldn’t that be funny.

“It just seems unnecessary,” Isak sits on the bed, facing Sara, who has her back to him so she can look at himself in the mirror while sucking in her cheeks and swiping the brush over them. “I think you look good without it,” he means that one, actually. He’s not really attracted to her, but he can tell Sara is a very pretty girl, without all those things on her face.

“Well, I don’t wear it for you,” Sara shrugs. “I wear it because it makes me look pretty. For example, my face is pretty round, so-“

“Your face is not round, Sara, your face is normal,” Isak rolls his eyes.

“ _So_ , this contour kit helps me make my cheekbones pop out a bit more, and so the shape of my face is better, see?” She turns around and points at her face excitedly. Isak can barely tell she looks any different from before, but he’s not the most observant guy when it comes to girls’ faces, so that one’s probably on him.

Isak’s shrug just makes Sara roll her eyes again. Then, she starts walking towards him, trying to contain her smile by biting her lower lip. Isak’s pretty sure he’d find that cute if he wasn’t- well, if he was into that.

Suddenly, Sara swipes one big stripe on Isak’s cheek with her brush.

“What the fuck!” Isak leans back, trying to get his face out of her reach.

“Oh, come on! You have such good bone structure, I want to see what it’d look like with contour.”

“I’m not going to let you _contour_ me, Sara, what the fuck,” she sighs deeply and looks up at the ceiling, as if she was dealing with a little child.

“It’s just me, babe, what’s the worst that could happen? I promise I won’t show anyone,” she raises her brush again and Isak flinches. “It’s just makeup, Isak, it’s not poison.”

He doesn’t say anything, and Sara must take his silence as an invitation to keep going, because she smiles and puts her brush back on his face. Isak feels so weird, this is so _weird_. His girlfriend is putting makeup on him, after telling him he has a good bone structure, whatever the fuck that means. If anyone else was in the room, shit, if _Jonas_ ever finds out about this. He’ll never let Isak live it down.

He’s not here, though, and Sara did tell him that she wasn’t going to tell anyone. Isak takes a breath and lets her spread the makeup on his cheek. The brush is soft, softer than he was expecting. And it actually feels kind of nice, calming. You know, if you can get past the whole Isak-is-a-boy-wearing-makeup situation.

“It tickles,” he mumbles.

“Stop whining,” Sara replies.

They’re talking in low voices, like they’ve created an intimate moment just by pulling out some brushes and makeup kits. And it feels that way, too, with their faces so close and Sara’s complete attention on his face. It’s actually making Isak kind of uncomfortable.

Sara puts the brush down, only to grab another one, brush it through another one of the little circles in the palette (he knows that one, only because he heard Eva whining about wanting –no, _needing_ – one from Kyle? Kylie? Last year) and bring it to his face again, higher this time, smearing the makeup right on his cheekbone.

The soft strands of the brush are relaxing, but Isak isn’t feeling very calm. He just can’t stop thinking about how _strange_ this whole situation is, how he’s a boy and he was just stalking a guy on Instagram because he thought he was good looking and now he’s fucking wearing _makeup_.

“Done,” Sara states, setting the brush and the palette on her nightstand. “Oh my god, you look so cute!” that just makes Isak feel even more uncomfortable. Shit, this is not just any girl putting makeup on him, it’s his _girlfriend._ “Go look, go look,” she urges.

Isak slowly gets up and walks towards the mirror on wobbly legs, his eyes downcast the whole time. He doesn’t know why he’s so fucking nervous, it’s just his face, he’s looked in the mirror a million times, he can _do_ this. Finally, when he’s right in front of the mirror, he takes a deep breath, and looks up.

He thought it wouldn’t look that different, like it happened with Sara. Thought his face would just look just a little more defined, his cheekbones more pronounced. He was so wrong. He’s- he’s _glowing_. The shape of his face looks completely different. Still him, but- better. _Prettier._

“See, your bone structure is perfect! Ugh, I hate you.” Sara’s voice startles him, he had almost forgotten she was there with him.

He can kind of see it. He does have a nice bone structure. The glow on his face even makes his eyes look brighter, and his whole face just looks a million times nicer. He can’t help smiling a little bit, his heart is still beating erratically in his chest but it’s not out of fear, he’s just happy.

“You look like those guys on Instagram that do makeup tutorial videos,” Sara chimes in from behind him “only they’re all gay,” she giggles.

Isak doesn’t end up going to the party. He fakes a headache and runs home as fast as he can so he can scrub all the makeup off his face.

-

The second time Isak tries makeup, he’s at Eva’s.

“-it’s just so _crowded_. Like, I like spending time with Eskild, I really do, but there are some things you just don’t want to share with your roommates. Or anyone.” Eva hums from where she’s kneeling on the floor, rummaging under the bed, where Isak is sitting, looking for something.

“Like, Even pretty much lives with us now, and I’m so grateful that they let him stay even though we’re way too many in that apartment and everything,” Isak continues, “but there is no privacy. Even if we’re locked up in my bedroom, Eskild seems to be allergic to fucking _knocking_. Do you know how fucking awkward it is to be caught hooking up by _Eskild_? He never fucking lets it go.”

“Hold this,” Eva hands him a little mirror, which Isak obediently holds up in front of her face, while she takes out her eyeliner.

“And like, Even is wonderful, an amazing person. But he has no fucking shame. Like, he’ll walk out of the bathroom in just a towel and start chatting with Noora or Eskild, as if he wasn’t fucking naked under there. And they _stare_. I know it’s not Even’s fault he’s like, the most beautiful person, and it’s not their fault that they notice, but like, calm down, maybe?” he scoffs.

He waits for an answer, but after just staring at Eva and her staring at herself in the mirror Isak is still holding up for her, it becomes apparent that he won’t get an answer.

“Eva? Hello?” she only hums in response, furrows her brow as she tries to make a little wing shape on her eyelid, looking very focused. It’s not what she’s supposed to be focusing _on_ , though “Were you even listening?”

“What?” she looks up for a second, going back to her reflection the next “oh, yeah, Even’s a hottie.”

“Oh my god, you weren’t!” Isak puts the mirror down, looking at Eva accusingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry! You know I love listening to your boy drama but I’m in the middle of something,” Eva grabs his hand and positions it so he’s holding the mirror in front of her face again.

“It’s not _boy drama,_ ” Isak grumpily argues.

“Okay, sure, whatever you say. But I need to concentrate, okay? This is not easy.” Isak frowns.

“It’s just drawing a line, how hard can it be?” Eva puts the eyeliner down and looks up at Isak, eyebrows raised.

“Liquid eyeliner? Pretty fucking hard. I don’t even think humans created it, Satan did.” Isak gives her an unimpressed look. She’s so _dramatic_.

“If you hate it so much, then why do you wear it?”

“Because it looks nice.” She suddenly gasps, her face lighting up with a smile, “Can I put some on you?”

“Um, no,” Isak holds the hand mirror higher, hoping she’ll get lost in her own reflection again and drop it.

“Why not? It’s easier to do it on another person, I promise I won’t fuck it up,” she puts her hands together in front of her and pouts. “Please, please, please?”

“Why do you even want to do it?” Isak sighs. He does actually think it looks pretty on Eva, but she’s _Eva_ , everything looks pretty on her.

Don’t tell her he said that, her ego is big enough as it is.

“Because! It would look good on you, and now you put the idea in my head and I won’t stop annoying you until you let me.” Isak sighs. He knows she’s not bluffing. “Come on! Just let me, you don’t even have to do anything!” a mischievous smile starts growing on her face, and isn’t that a scary sight “I know you like being in the _receiving end_ of things.”

“Oh, god.” Isak covers his face with his hands as Eva giggles delightedly, obviously very proud of herself for that one. One day hasn’t passed where Isak hasn’t regretted getting drunk and talking to Eva about his sex life. He assumed she had forgotten about it, since she was pretty gone herself. But obviously, she hasn’t, and she doesn’t hesitate bringing it up every fucking chance she gets.

Isak is never drinking again.

“Just let me do it! Please?” Isak sighs.

“Fine,” he concedes. “Only so you’ll stop whining.”

“Yay!” she claps her hands, smiling brightly. Isak can’t help but return it, he doesn’t think that the sight of a happy Eva will ever stop making him automatically smile.

She grabs the eyeliner again, taking the cap off and settling on her knees in front of Isak, the hand mirror forgotten on the bed.

“Okay, you have to stay very still,” Isak nods in understanding “Isak! What did I just say?”

“Oh, sorry.” Eva sighs and shakes her head.

Isak tries very hard to stay as still as possible, which is hard once Eva starts to actually apply the eyeliner on his eyelid, because it tickles. Why does makeup fucking tickle so much? The hand that Eva’s using to hold his head in place helps some, but he’s still tensed up until she apparently finishes, putting the eyeliner down and letting go of his face.

“Finally,” Isak sighs.

“We’re not done, stupid.”

“What?”

“You have two eyes, don’t you?”

Right.

They repeat the process. Isak can see Eva’s tongue poking out of her mouth, and he wants to laugh but he doesn’t really want to be stabbed in the eye, so.

She finally finishes, “Wait, not yet.”

“What _now_?” Isak complains.

“Will you stop being a baby? I want to put mascara on you,” she reaches below the bed again, coming up with a little flask of mascara this time.

“I didn’t agree to this!”

“Too bad. Look down,” she brings the wand to his eyelashes.

It’s scary. He trusts Eva with his life, but maybe not with pointy objects right in front of his cornea.

“You’re going to poke me in the eye with it.”

“I won’t if you stop fucking moving.”

He manages to stay still through Eva threatening both of his eyes’ safety, and finally releases the breath he’d been holding when she puts down the mascara and declares “now, it’s done!”

She hands him the mirror so he can look and, wow. He actually likes it. They look like two little wings on each of Isak’s eyes. It makes the shape of them look prettier, makes them look a bit greener. He never thought his eyes were particularly attractive, they’re not exactly big or anything, not like Even’s – sometimes Isak thinks about those big blue eyes and his brain actually short-circuits – but like this, he’s starting to really like them. And his usually less than average-looking eyelashes look so long and thick. He looks _hot_.

Yeah, he’s learned a lot of self-love lately, he’s not above calling himself hot now.

“Shit, you look sexy,” Eva says, which, gross “Even is gonna jizz his pants.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t ever say that again,” he lowers Eva’s hand so that the mirror is sitting on the bed again, “second of all, I’m taking this off before I go home.”

“What? Why?” she pouts.

“Because, I’m not going to meet Even while wearing eyeliner.”

“Why? He’ll just tell you how hot you look!” Isak only rolls his eyes, so Eva continues. “Okay, the other day, when I stayed over at the kollektiv and I got up for breakfast while Noora was still asleep, you and Even were there, and he told you you looked beautiful, remember?” Isak blushes. Damn Even and his displays of affection in front of their awful friends.

“Yeah, so?”

“You looked disgusting!” Eva exclaims happily.

“Wow, thanks, Eva.”

“So now that you actually look good, he’s gonna be speechless!” he just looks at her for a moment before sighing again.

“I can’t go home looking like this, Eva, what will Eskild say?”

“Are you kidding me? Eskild will be so excited! He’ll probably take a million pictures of you, print them all, frame them and hang them around the kollektiv”

Isak stares, “I rest my case.”

Eva sighs, defeated, and flops down on her back next to Isak. “You’re no fun,” she pouts.

Isak looks at her little sad face, takes a deep breath, then releases it. He is _so_ going to regret this. “Tell you what,” he settles on his side, looking down at her, “you can take one picture and send it to the girls and the girls _only_ , okay?”

Eva squeaks and plants a big kiss on his cheek before standing up and starting searching for her phone.

He did remove the makeup from his face before he left Eva’s to go back home. He’s content, spending time with her always makes him feel better, happy he has her friendship back. She is, after all, one of his older friends, and although he doesn’t say it much, – it gets to her head, okay -Isak truly loves her.

His phone pings in his pocket while he’s walking home. When he takes it out, it’s the groupchat he has with the boys, where Magnus has sent, to Isak’s horror, the picture Eva took in her house, with the simple caption: _foxy_.

Isak takes it all back. He fucking hates Eva.

-

The third time Isak tries makeup, is the first time that it’s completely by choice.

He’s decided, after a lot of thought and emotional conversations with Eskild and Even and, surprisingly, Mahdi; that he’s going to Pride. Even really wanted to go, and Isak is finally at a place where he thinks he’d be comfortable with strangers knowing about them, about him. So he decided, fuck it, he’s going to go and have a great time.

(Even assured him they’d leave as soon as he felt like he wanted to go home, and Isak holds on to that promise like a lifeline).

Even and him went to the kollektiv so they could meet with Eskild and some of his friends and go all together. When they arrived, one of Eskild’s friends, a girl with short green hair called Anja, was putting glitter on his face.

“Hello my baby gay! And his giant boyfriend!” Eskild greets excitedly. Isak knows him enough to know he’s well on his way to tipsy, judging by his tone and the half empty glass of wine he’s holding, which is clearly not his first.

Even says hello to both of them before excusing himself to the bathroom.

“Hi, guru,” Isak says, just to see him smile.

“I’ll go hug you in a minute, when the lovely Anja has finished beautifying me,” he gestures at her, as if Isak wouldn’t know who he’s talking about.

“Want me to beautify you next, Issy?” Anja asks.

Isak’s first reaction is to laugh, because no, he’s not the kind of guy who wears mascara and goes to pride and-

Except, he kind of _is_ that guy. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s wearing makeup. Hell, it wouldn’t even be the second. He takes a look around, sees guys wearing skirts, wigs and dresses; sees a girl with a very impressive eyeshadow look in the colors of the bisexual flag (he knows them because Even has a little pin with them on his backpack, a gift from Eva accompanied by a “we need to stand _bi_ each other” and a wink) (She’s a fucking nerd, Isak loves her so much), and he thinks, fuck it, if he doesn’t wear makeup here, then where will he?

“You know what? Sure.” Eskild gasps dramatically and looks at Isak with his best shocked expression.

“Isak Valtersen! You’re going to wear makeup? If you look prettier than me, I am not going,” he states. Isak giggles.

“I promise I won’t look as good as you,” he holds his hand to his chest (Jonas says he got that from Even. Whatever, he didn’t invent touching his own chest).

“All done,” says Anja. Eskild gets up and hugs her.

“Thank you, pretty!” he then turns his attention back to Isak “I’m going to go find Even and distract him so he comes here to see the final product, he’s going to jizz his pants!” Isak grimaces.

Yeah, still not okay.

Anja invites him to sit down in front of her once Eskild goes off, presumably to find Even.

“Okay, for you, how about…” she starts looking through the – honestly impressive – collection of makeup she has settled on the table and comes up with something “this?” it’s a glittery, purple eyeshadow, and it has the name _Satellite Dreams_ written below it, Isak has never seen anything gayer in his life.

“Bring it on,” he smiles.

In the end, he gets the eyeshadow plus some mascara plus a nice pink lipstick. When Anja holds a little mirror so he can look at his reflection, he physically can’t stop the wide smile from spreading on his face. He’s never worn this much makeup, but the eyeshadow makes his eyes pop out, and the lipstick makes his usually very thin lips (again, his primary point of comparison is Even, he doesn’t stand a chance) look nice and full. He _loves_ it.

He can’t help but get a little teary-eyed. He doesn’t know why this is making him so emotional, it’s just paint on his face. But he looks around at all these people who have come here to go to Pride together, to show everyone that they’re not straight and they are _happy_ about it, that they love being who they are. He didn’t relate to that at all a couple of months ago, but now he’s here with all of them, excited to go out there and be himself, looking like he belongs, _feeling_ like he belongs.

It’s a very nice feeling, even if it does make him almost cry in front of people he doesn’t know.

Isak gives Anja a hug after thanking her, and then sets off to look for Even. He sees him in the hallway, leaning against the wall and nodding, probably (half) listening to some story Eskild is telling him ( _that_ must be entertaining, with Eskild a few glasses of wine in). He looks to the side a bit, and makes eye contact with Isak, and his easy smile falters some, which makes Isak panic just a little bit. Maybe he doesn’t like it?

He starts making his way to Even, looking down at the ground instead of his face because he’s not sure why he stopped smiling and he’s probably overthinking this and he knows this is _his_ thing and it should have nothing to do with Even, but if he doesn’t like it then Isak won’t enjoy this half as much. When he’s finally standing right in front of Even, any trace of self-consciousness he had before disappears. How can he be self-conscious when Even is looking at him like _that_? His eyes keep going from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes, his mouth apparently unable to close.

“Isak, you- you look-“ Jesus, Isak has never heard him _stutter_ before.

“Hot!” Eskild supplies. At the look Isak gives him (Even’s eyes are still glued to Isak’s face. _Good_ ), Eskild mutters “sorry, right, I’m leaving,” before going on his way.

“You look beautiful,” Even finally lets out. Isak is smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

He stands on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Even’s mouth before grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” Even nods.

In the end, even Eskild goes home before them.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at @lovedisak (:


End file.
